


The Unexpected Patient

by Victorious56



Series: IronQrow Week 2021 [4]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Developing Relationship, IronQrow Week 2021 (RWBY), M/M, Pre-Relationship, mention of a wound, not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28712721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: The well-ordered life of country doctor James Ironwood is disturbed when he is called upon to tend to the serious wounds of a stranger.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Series: IronQrow Week 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103042
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	The Unexpected Patient

**Author's Note:**

> Written for IronQrow Week 2021 Day 4: Historical AU

The sun crested Far Hill as Frank Peabody left the lane to check on his sheep. As he fastened the gate behind him, he heard an unusual sound.

Frank was not an imaginative man, and the low groan did not perturb him. It was a sound that should not have been there, however, and he resolved to find its source. He stood patiently, but all he could hear was the calling of the rooks in the trees at the far edge of the field. With a shrug, he turned to go.

"Please..."

The low, rasping groan was louder this time. Frank hesitated, and then a rustling could be heard in the ditch, several feet from the gate. He gripped his crook more firmly, passing back through the gate and walking slowly towards the sound.

The man in the ditch barely stirred as Frank bent over him. There was a faint rustle as his hand moved, disturbing the dead leaves and other debris which half covered him.

"Who are you, then?" Frank's voice was confident as he held the crook, ready to strike.

"Been shot... need help... please..." Every word uttered by the man in the ditch seemed to pain him, yet Frank backed away.

"I don't want no trouble," he said, looking along the lane as if expecting the King's men to be advancing on him as he spoke.

"No trouble... I am a Riding Officer... just need a doctor..." His voice was no more than a rasping whisper as his words petered out.

Frank leant on his crook, rubbing his grizzled chin with one hand. He was a simple man who wanted nothing more than a simple life, yet he knew it would be a sin to leave an injured man to die. He stood up straight, his decision reached.

"I'll get two lads to take yer to the doctor in Chiddingly. Don't you be going nowhere."

He set off back down the lane, the cawing of the rooks masking the dry laugh from the unfortunate occupant of the ditch.

  


Qrow Branwen thought he might possibly have had worse starts to the day in his life, yet could not at this moment recall one. The two farmhands were doing their best, but the makeshift stretcher was uncomfortable and every footfall send a shard of pain through his shoulder.

"We got a cart, o'course, but on these dry ruts you'd've been rattled to death," assured Frank, who was walking alongside the stretcher and maintaining a watchful gaze on the man lying on it. Qrow gritted his teeth as the front man slipped, tilting the stretcher and jolting his arm.

"You mind how you step there, Nat!" Frank patted Qrow's hand. "Not far to the sawbones now."

Qrow heard the farmer's voice as though from a distance, as his vision went dark.

❖

He could hear a muted humming, and feel a solid yet soft surface beneath him. He was no longer moving, and as Qrow opened one eye, he saw he was no longer outside.

"Ah, good. I need you awake so you can drink this." An imposing man with black hair turned towards Qrow, holding a glass half-filled with a deep red-brown liquid. "Now then, let me help you."

A strong arm supported Qrow as he sat up slightly, spluttering with the first taste of the fiery liquid.

"Drink up! I am going to hurt you, and this brandy will help to numb the pain." He smiled at Qrow, who frowned in return.

"My shoulder—"

"Yes, the ball has gone deep and the wound has become inflamed. I won't ask you now how this came about; we'll get you patched up and when you are ready, we will talk."

Qrow had taken several more mouthfuls of brandy as the doctor spoke. The room was beginning to circle around him, the doctor's handsome face fading in and out of focus. He obediently drained the glass, and the doctor rested him gently back on the sofa. Straightening up, he considered his patient for a moment, before turning away to wash his hands in a bowl on the table. After drying them, he selected a pair of forceps and a length of clean white cloth, and set to work.

  


When Qrow roused up several hours later, his head and shoulder were throbbing in unison. He attempted to rise, but sank back with a groan. There was a movement across the room, and the doctor was at his side.

"Do not try to sit, you will likely swoon if you do." His deep voice had a calming effect, and Qrow rubbed his face with his left hand. He peered up groggily at the figure looking down at him.

"Thank you... at least, I imagine I owe you my thanks." He touched his right shoulder lightly, wincing a little as he did so.

"Have a care, you have a nasty wound there. I was able to extract the ball, fortunately. The muscles and tendons are quite badly damaged, however. With care it will heal, but it will take some time."

Qrow groaned, licking his dry lips. "Would you be good enough to fetch me a glass of water?"

"Certainly." The doctor left the room, returning quickly with a glass which he set on the table. He once more supported Qrow and held the glass to his lips. After gulping thirstily, Qrow lay back with a sigh.

The doctor placed the empty glass on the table. "You will not be able to travel for some time, but I have a spare room here if you wish to stay until you are strong enough."

Qrow stared up at him. "That's too good of you, Dr... forgive me, I do not know your name."

"Dr James Ironwood, at your service." The doctor smiled as he gave a small bow.

"I am very happy to make your acquaintance, Dr Ironwood. I am Qrow Branwen, a Riding Officer charged with investigating the smuggling which is rife in this area. That is how I received this," he shrugged his shoulder, then hissed sharply.

"Well, Mr Branwen, I am pleased to know you. But you must take better care than that, or you will be here all summer!" He laughed, Qrow smiling with him even though his shoulder was throbbing alarmingly.

"I must go and instruct Mrs Winter, my housekeeper, to make the room ready for you, and prepare a light something for you to eat. And I will look out some of my spare clothes, as those you are wearing will need some attention."

Qrow looked down ruefully at his dishevelled appearance. "It is true, and I am afraid my shirt is a lost cause."

"We are not so different in height, I think. My things will do for you until you can arrange to have your own effects sent here." James finished tidying the room, adding, "Do not be tempted to get up and move around. I will come and help you to your room shortly." With that, he left the room, closing the door with a quiet click.

Qrow followed the doctor's advice and did not try to move. His head was still fuzzy and there was a warm feeling in his shoulder, which pained him however little he moved it. He wondered how he was going to manage with only one good arm, and how long he would have to presume upon Dr Ironwood's hospitality.

  


After a little food Qrow was very tired, and requested that he might be allowed to go to his room. The doctor rose quickly, standing on Qrow's left side and offering his arm for support. Gritting his teeth, Qrow stood carefully, and they made their slow way to the stairs.

Climbing to the first floor was not easy, and by the time Qrow had reached the small, plainly furnished room he was breathing heavily. Dr Ironwood sat him on a chair, crouching down to remove Qrow's boots.

"Please, you should not—" Qrow's cheeks reddened at the sight of the doctor attending to him in the manner of a servant. "Dr Ironwood, please let me—"

"Indeed no, you must not attempt this kind of thing yet. I will send my man to help you prepare for bed, and if there is anything you should need, my bedroom is just across the landing." He stood back, hands on hips as he regarded the seated man. "I am a little concerned about your colour... I hope you may not be starting a fever."

Qrow blushed even more. "I hope not, too. You have been most kind... the least I can do is get better quickly."

James laughed. "If only all my patients were so determined! Well, I will bid you a good night, Mr Branwen. Tomorrow, perhaps, you can tell me more about how you came by your injury."

"I will, and thank you, again."

The doctor nodded a small bow, and left Qrow to wait for the manservant to help him prepare for bed.

❖

After a restless night where he could not find a comfortable position in the bed, Qrow was woken from the sleep which had finally come by a rattling of the curtain being pulled back. The servant set the water jug on the dresser, saying, "Please sir, master said I was to help you wash."

Qrow rubbed his eyes with a tired hand. "Thank you, that's very kind."

After an awkward toilet he was assisted into the clothes the doctor had lent him. The breeches were a little loose, but otherwise they were an adequate fit. Qrow regarded himself in the mirror as the servant attempted to tidy his hair.

"I'm sorry sir, I can't seem to—"

"Do not worry! My hair has ever been the bane of my life, and indeed it looks no worse now than usual."

"If that is all, then, sir?"

"It is... thank you for your help."

The servant emptied the bowl and took the jug and towels away, leaving Qrow to give himself one more glance before venturing downstairs.

After opening one door which led to what appeared to be a study, Qrow found his way to the parlour at the rear of the house. The sun was well risen and the room had a bright, cheerful appearance. As he entered, James rose from the table.

"Good morning, Mr Branwen. I hope you slept well?"

Qrow sat at the chair which was pulled out for him.

"A little fitfully, I'm afraid. The bed was very comfortable, but I found it difficult to relieve the pain in my shoulder. I'm sure it will improve."

"I would like to examine it after breakfast, if I may. We don't want an infection to take hold."

Qrow glanced at him as he helped himself to bread and butter. "I am sorry to be such a burden on you."

"No, do not say so. It is my duty to care for the sick and injured, after all. I am pleased Peabody brought you to me; I fear to imagine what may have happened if he had not found you."

Qrow frowned. "I think we can both guess what the outcome would have been. Indeed, I am sure my attackers thought me dead when they left me there."

The doctor looked pensive. "Yes... who were they, do you know?"

"I do." Qrow accepted a cup of tea gratefully, and took a sip before continuing. "They are a desperate group. A band of smugglers who have been operating in this area for some time. It was my job to gain their trust and learn their names, and where they were based. Unfortunately my true identity was uncovered, and I was shot as I tried to get away."

The doctor's eyebrows had risen by degrees as Qrow's tale unfolded, and he did not answer for some moments. One finger tapped on the table, as he said, "What if they learn of your escape? Are you still in danger?"

"I think not. They have no way of knowing where I am... as I say, I am sure they believe me to be dead in that ditch. Although, if word was to get out that I had survived—"

"This is a shocking affair." James got to his feet and went to stand by the window, looking back at Qrow. "You must stay here quietly until you are fully healed. No—" he raised a hand as Qrow opened his mouth. "Do not demur! It is not a problem, and to tell the truth I will be glad of the company. If you have no objection, of course." He smiled warmly, and Qrow saw no reason to argue. Even the small exertion of eating breakfast had left him tired, and the thought of staying quietly under the doctor's care was welcome.

"If you are sure... then thank you."

"I am sure. Now then, can I look at your shoulder?"

  


The wound was found to be a little inflamed, and Dr Ironwood applied some iodine and redressed it. The sting of the iodine caused Qrow to grip the arm of the chair, hissing sharply through gritted teeth. The doctor patted his arm gently.

"I do apologise, but it will help the healing, you know."

Qrow smiled wanly. "I know. I should be more brave."

James tutted. "You are very brave, to infiltrate a group of bloodthirsty smugglers. That is not something I could do."

Qrow smiled up at him. "And I couldn't do your job, so we are even, I think."

The doctor rested a hand on Qrow's shoulder for a moment, before tidying away his equipment. "I recommend some light exercise when you feel strong enough. Maybe in a day or so."

"What would you suggest?"

James closed his bag and turned back to Qrow. "There are some pleasant walks to be had in the neighbourhood, and I would be happy to accompany you, when I am free."

❖

After two days spent within the confines of the doctor's house, pleasant abode though it was, Qrow was ready for a change of scenery. After breakfast, the weather remaining fine and dry, Dr Ironwood suggested a stroll.

"I have a patient to see in a house nearby, and it is only a short walk. If you would like to accompany me, I would be glad of it. I think you are ready for a little exercise now."

Qrow's shoulder did not pain him as much as at first, and though his arm was still in a sling, walking slowly did not cause any discomfort. His own clothes had been washed and pressed by the doctor's man, so it was with some pleasure he was helped into his coat by Dr Ironwood.

They set out along the lane, the doctor holding his bag in one hand with his free arm ready to offer support to Qrow, should he need it. This occurred once or twice, as the track was not even, and Qrow did not wish to tumble onto his slowly-healing shoulder. As they walked, he asked James about his patients, and the kind of care he provided. They were in the middle of extensive farmland, so many of those he attended were farming families, both the owners of the land and those who worked it.

"You must be a very busy man, Dr Ironwood."

"I am, although the summer months are a little easier. There is less illness now, but there is an increase in injuries from farming tools and equipment, as you may imagine."

They had reached the gate of the large house where the doctor's patient lived.

"The lady of the house is soon to be confined with her third child; this is merely a routine visit to ensure all is progressing well. Here is a bench in the garden, if you would care to wait for me, I will not be very long."

Qrow rested on the bench and the doctor, good as his word, was soon exiting the front door. With a tip of his hat, he turned and walked down the short path, joining Qrow who was now at the gate.

They proceeded slowly back to the doctor's house. As he opened the door, James observed Qrow's pale face and saw him wince as he mounted the step. "The walk has wearied you, Mr Branwen. You should take a little refreshment, and then rest."

Qrow sighed. "I fear you are right. Maybe after lunch I might sit in the garden, if that is possible? It is most pleasant to feel the warmth of the sun on my face."

"That is certainly possible, I will arrange for a chair to be placed suitably for you."

  


Qrow woke from a light doze as a shadow fell over him. Dr Ironwood looked down at him, the faintest of frowns creasing his forehead. "How are you? I let you sleep, as you seemed to need it."

Qrow covered his mouth as a yawn escaped him. "My apologies... I am feeling rested, thank you."

James looked up at the sky. "The sun is now beyond the house, and it will soon begin to cool out here. You should come inside, now."

Qrow pushed on his good arm to stand upright. He staggered slightly, and Dr Ironwood steadied him with a strong arm. "Thank you... once more. I declare, you will tire of hearing those words before long."

"Not at all." James released his grip, a small smile on his face as he looked at Qrow. "I am happy to do what I can to help you back to health."

Qrow glanced at him. The doctor was now frowning, and as Qrow was about to ask if all was well, he continued. "I have heard a tale from Mrs Winter. There is talk that a band of miscreants is roaming the countryside, asking for news of an officer answering your description. She said that, according to the person who told her, they were almost certainly smugglers."

All was quiet in the garden as Qrow digested his words. "It seems they wish to finish the job," he said. The laugh in his voice was not at all convincing.

"It is even more important that you stay safe here. But what can be done about this gang?"

"If they are talking so brazenly, they should be easy to find. If I may borrow writing materials, I will pass this information on to my superiors. It is to be hoped they can send some officers to track down the smugglers."

"Of course you may; come into the house and I will find what you need."

❖

Qrow's letter was duly sent, and while he awaited a reply, James insisted he remain confined to the house. Qrow saw the sense of this, but he fretted at the imposed incarceration. He was usually an active man, and only being able to look at the fine weather through the window was most frustrating.

Dr Ironwood sympathised with his patient, and did his best to keep Qrow entertained when he could. He had a small library of books which he placed at Qrow's disposal, and in the evenings they played piquet or cribbage. Qrow was unfamiliar with the latter of these games but learnt quickly, and was soon able to provide James with a challenging game.

In this way the time passed tolerably, and when a reply was eventually received to Qrow's letter, he did not feel the days had dragged at all.

The matter of the smuggling gang was now in the hands of two officers, who would investigate discreetly using the information Qrow had provided. He was instructed to remain quietly at the doctor's house, if James was agreeable to this.

Qrow showed the letter to him, and he scanned it quickly before returning it. "Of course you must stay, Mr Branwen. Indeed, I will be at a loss when it is time for you to leave." A flush rose on his cheeks, as he stammered, "I mean... your company has been... most welcome."

Qrow folded the letter slowly, before glancing at his companion. James was biting his lip, staring at the floor whilst adjusting his cuffs unnecessarily.

"I will be sad to leave. I arrived here in less than auspicious circumstances, yet— I count myself fortunate." He watched the doctor's face, wondering at the boldness in his words.

"Then— we are in agreement." Dr Ironwood looked at Qrow, a small smile forming on his face.

"I believe so." Qrow returned the smile, a warmth spreading though his chest.

❖

Summer was now at its height, and Qrow spent much of his time in the garden behind the house. James was a busy man, yet spent as much of his free time as he could with Qrow. The two men had grown closer, and exchanged anecdotes about their different lives. Although a learned man, Dr Ironwood had travelled little since qualifying to practice, and he enjoyed hearing of Qrow's exploits. For his part, he introduced Qrow to the delights of birdwatching, a pastime which Qrow would not have expected to enjoy. However, the time spent in the garden with one of the doctor's many books on birds on his lap, meant he soon recognised most of the avian visitors he saw.

Qrow's shoulder continued to improve and after several weeks he dispensed with the sling. There was also a welcome visitor to the doctor's house, late one evening. One of the Excise Officers reported the smugglers had been apprehended; several of the gang were killed as they tried to escape, and the ringleader was in custody. He would be tried and almost certainly transported overseas to serve his sentence.

The doctor ushered the officer out, and returned to the drawing room. Qrow stood at the window, staring out into the twilight. The moon was almost full, and the trees which edged the garden cast their shadows across the grass. As he heard the door close, Qrow turned to face James.

"You must be very relieved, Mr Branwen. With the gang members dead or arrested, your life is no longer in danger."

Qrow said nothing. The prospect of leaving the comfortable house, which had been his home for many weeks, brought him no pleasure at all. He regarded James, and decided to ask the question which had nagged at him for some time.

"Why are you not married, Dr Ironwood?"

The doctor's eyebrows rose at the unexpected question. He paused, before saying, "I could tell you what I say to others who have asked that question. That I never met a woman I loved so much I wanted to share my life with her. It would not be a lie... but it would not be the whole truth."

Qrow clasped his hands behind his back. His fingernails dug into his palms as he waited.

"In truth, there is no woman in the world I could ever wish to marry. The person who I most desire to fill that role, is one who is unable to do so."

"Why is that?" Qrow's voice trembled a little as he spoke. James gazed at him, a wistful expression on his face.

"Because it is you, Mr Branwen. And you will doubtless hold me in abhorrence now you know it."

The silence in the room was only broken by the loud breathing of both men, their eyes fixed on each other. After the longest moment, James added, "I understand that you will wish to leave, and I apologise for my inappropriate remarks. Please believe me when I say I mean you no harm... indeed, I would never—" He broke off, his voice faltering as he turned his back on Qrow.

The room had faded out of focus as Qrow listened to his words. Words which expressed the feelings Qrow had held in his own heart, unspoken. He blinked several times, and crossed the room to place a hand on the doctor's shoulder.

In a voice full of gentleness, he said, "Abhorrence is the feeling farthest from that which I have for you. Your kindness since I arrived here, and the time we have spent together, has brought me to the realisation that I care for you, in a way I did not think possible. I have had— dalliances, with women of uncertain virtue, in my youth... I have never, in all my years, met a person who has captured my heart, as you have."

Qrow's hand fell back, and for a moment Dr Ironwood was still. Then he slowly turned, his blue-grey eyes glistening with unshed tears. He blinked, and one tear crept down his cheek. Qrow raised a hand, wiping it away carefully.

James placed his hand over Qrow's and held it against his cheek. His voice was unsteady as he spoke. "Does this mean you do not wish to leave?"

In an equally halting tone, Qrow replied. "If it was possible, I would be here with you, always."

"Qrow..." James' lips trembled. "If I may address you so informally?"

"You may, James." Qrow smiled.

James placed a hesitant finger under Qrow's chin. Tilting his face up, he pressed the lightest of kisses to his lips, and for several seconds they stood as one, warm breath mingling between them.

A long sigh escaped from Qrow as he broke away. "This is more than I could have hoped for, but— how can it be, James? How can _we_ be?"

James' lips set in a determined line. "Rest assured, we will manage, Qrow. You should know I can be very... resolute, when necessary."

Qrow trembled at the thought. "Perhaps you would care to give me an example of your resolve," he smiled.

Without preamble James pulled Qrow into a strong embrace, whispering against his ear, "My desire for you is great, but know that I would never do anything which you might dislike. My only wish is to please you, Qrow."

Qrow ran a hand through James' thick hair, replying, "And I want only to please you, so it seems we are well suited."

The kiss which followed was very different from the first. Years of solitude and the absence of a close companion had left both men hungry for the satisfaction of intimate contact, and the surge of warmth through James' abdomen told him he had not been mistaken in his feelings.

For Qrow's part, the response of his own body told him all he needed to know. He slid his hands inside James' coat, marvelling at the promise of strength as he leant into him.

James broke away, panting slightly as their lips parted, while their bodies remained pressed together. "We will need to be discreet, at first. My household have been in my employ for many years, and I think they will be... sympathetic to our situation." He gasped as Qrow slid his hands further down, adding with a small laugh, "I'm not sure this qualifies as _discreet_ , Qrow."

Qrow's hands halted, and he looked into James' face. "I would apologise, yet I am not sorry. You excite such feelings in me, I did not realise—"

"We will have ample time to explore these feelings... When all are abed, come to my chamber. And be assured, I will take care not to hurt your shoulder."

Qrow's breath hitched, and James kissed him softly on the mouth. "We will contrive, Qrow. I have no doubt."

"I trust you."

❖

So it was that Qrow's sojourn in the country stretched from weeks to months, and then to years. The servants did not know the details of their master's relationship, but seeing him happy and contented was enough.

And James was forever grateful for the occurrence which had brought him an unexpected, yet so beloved, patient.

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments always appreciated, thank you.


End file.
